Junkie
by Sugar144
Summary: Taylor is a teenage junkie, sent to rehab to 'straighten up'. While dealing with the hardships of addiction, she meets the mysterious and alluring fellow addict who simply goes by the name Jackson. Conflict and romance ensues. AU No Plane Crash. R
1. The Hospital

Disclaimer- I don't own Flight 29 Down or any of its characters

**Extended Summery**: Vermin of the night, living in cracks in the walls and holes in the floor- the lepers of contemporary society: junkies. That's exactly what she was. After a near-fatal overdose, Taylor is admitted to the hospital and visited by a messenger of her wealthy father who bears the news of redemption. Or hell, it would seem. She is sent to Pine River Institute, a rehabilitation center surrounded by a vast nothingness of wintery boreal forest- an alien land far from her hometown of the sun soaked city of Los Angeles. During her stay at Pine River, she meets a number of interesting new people but in particular, the myterious and alluring boy simply named Jackson. A first time-commited young addict, Taylor struggles with her identity as tries to define herself without drugs.

**A/N:** My new story, yay! I have lots of inspiration for this one so hopefully I will be writing and updating a lot in the near future. Anyway, this story is a bit different from my other stories. I have never written AU (alternative universe) before nor a M rated fic so I'm pretty excited. Enjoy!

Her transparent grey skin was a thin, fleshy curtain, barely masking the boney stage behind. Veins were revealed racing along her body in complex networks, divulging the secrets of her internal workings. She was near a skeleton; not quite a corpse, but not nearly a human. She was decaying matter, wasting away in her hospital bed.

Her teeth chattered, her pores oozed cold sweat. She shook. She convulsed. Her raspy voice spat out half-shapen curses. It sounded as if she was speaking in tongues, or perhaps diverting back to the language of a primitive beast. A catholic nurse who came in for check-ups had taken to reading her the bible, convinced that she was possessed by the devil. Possessed she was, but not by the devil…

Her possessor called to her, in a pitch only her trained ears could hear. If her body would operate in an appropriate fashion, she would have complied with its wishes. She would have found it. But alas, she was tied down by the bondage of her useless bundle of bones.

If one looked closely enough at her sunken face, polluted with the scars of lost battles, there was semblance of a once beautiful girl. Haunting, fluorescent blue irises bulged out of her hollow face. They flickered across the room periodically, with a magnetism so great it was hard not to be pulled into the gravity of her stare. The crazed look in her eyes reflected that of a starved animal. Her gaze could not be held for more than a matter of seconds as it was too uncomfortable to bear.

A few days after her initial hospitalization a man came to visit her- her first visitor. He entered her room gingerly and upon seeing her, stopped for a number of moments to survey her tragic state. His lips pursed and he cleared his throat.

"It was quite the struggle to find you here, you know," he offered casually as he stepped to the foot of her hospital bed.

Her eyes darted over to him and ran along his body in sporadic, broken lines. She did not speak.

"They said you wouldn't even say your name- they didn't know if you knew how to," he continued in the condescending tone of a self-righteous authority figure, "what is your name?"

Her eyes seemed to struggle to focus on him and her lips quivered with the intent of speech. Her left leg had a spasm. She looked out the window.

"I see," he said in distaste, "can you speak at all? Or is this just another ploy for attention?"

After a few beats of silence, his tyrant speech resumed: "This is the absolute last of this, you must have guessed by now. I do not wish to put up with this any longer. I've arranged for a place to take you upon your release. No more running. It took me long enough to track you down here- and look at you! You're and absolute mess, basically on the verge of death. In fact, count your lucky stars you aren't ten feet under as we speak! The absolute end, I say! No more!"

Her lips traced the shape of many words until she finally croaked "fuck off."

He resounded with a bitter laugh, "Oh, so your voice has reappeared now, has it? And with the attitude as well, of course."

Her lips curled down into a grimace- her first show of emotion. This seemed to place a smug smile on the man's face.

"And the corpse is revived through malice," he swooned joyfully. "This will certainly make my job easier."

Her grimace deepened. Her eyes blazed with anger as she repeated herself once again; "fuck off".

"This place you will be going to," he said, ignoring her, "or an 'institute' as they call it, has a zero tolerance policy. They won't take your bullshit- not as I have. They specialize in people like you. They'll know how to get to you if you don't listen. So you'll be good, yes?"

He indulged in humouring himself by pretending to expect ananswer. She only continued to frown and disregard him as he knew she would.

"Pine River Institute it's called. Apparently it has lovely grounds, although I suspect you won't be seeing the light of day for a while. People like you don't like the sunlight anyhow, do you? Vermin of the night, living in the cracks in the walls and holes in the floor- like fucking lepers. No wonder you're as pale as a ghost; you don't meet the sun often, huh? Just fucking roaches, you people, that's what you are."

He paused to remember his train of thought. "Oh yes, Pine River. That's what I was on about," he muttered. "You'll get your self straightened out there. They've got programs- like therapy and substance group- stuff to help you with your issues. Not as swanky as the some of the rehab centers in California but that's not what you need. You need hard time, not a vacation."

"And who the fuck says I'm going?" she demanded in a strained voice.

"Well for starters: me," he countered, "although my orders don't hold much weight with you, do they? It's too bad really, seeing as I have been given the authority from higher up to deal with you. And higher up agrees with me that this plan of action is necessary at this point. You're not a legal adult yet- you have to listen to the higher ranks."

"Put him on the phone," she commanded.

"As much as I am sure he would love to hear this one, he is not available."

"Not available," she spat out in a renewed rage, "what the fuck does that mean?"

"It means he's not available. He cannot be reached; he's busy. Sorry princess."

"What do you mean he's busy? This is unacceptable! He can't send his little bitch down here and just have me shipped off without a word!"

"Unfortunately for you," the man lectured, "being him, he doesn't need 'a word'. He didn't get where he is today by talking out all his decisions. He's a man of action- a busy man of action with no time for your shenanigans."

"He's my father," she said harshly.

He laughed. "Oh, so he's your father now? He's the one who's supposed to be in charge, now is he? That seems to be a new development in your philosophy on life. I had thought you were the one running the show. You certainly never listened to him before."

"I don't take messages from little bitches. Anything he wants me to do, he has to fucking say it to my face."

"Oh yes, I'm sure that would make you an obedient little angel," he said, his voice ridden with sarcasm.

"Now," he concluded after looking at his watch, "I must go. You get your rest. As soon as the doctor will sign the release sheets- which if everything goes according to plan should be in a couple of days- some nice gentlemen will assist you straight to a car, with brute force if necessary, and you'll be going straight to Pine River."

"Go screw yourself," she said ruefully.

"Lovely to see you as always, Taylor. Good luck with your recovery." The man looked at her for one last time and took his exit.

**A/N2:** I hope you enjoyed the debut of my new story! **Please** review to tell me your intial thoughts on it and/or any errors that may be in this chapter (there may be typos as I typed this quite late in the night). I'm not quite sure how this story will be recieved so any comments are greatly appriciated.


	2. First Meetings and First Glances

Disclaimer- I don't own Flight 29 Down or any of its characters.

* * *

**T**aylor awoke in a bed not unlike the one she had been in in the hospital. The crisp white sheets were wrapped around her like a cocoon; the sterile smell of disinfectant intoxicated her with a lemony undertone. This bed though, it was different. It was bigger. The phantom sound of machines was non-existent in the foreign room, unlike the perpetual mechanical hum at the hospital. The stale silence the room possessed was suddenly interrupted by the echoing sound of footsteps somewhere far off. As the sounds advanced, a woman in a loose-fitted white uniform emerged in the doorway. Taylor rolled over and feigned a deep slumber as the woman approached her and began jotting notes down.

"Not the talkative type, are you?" the woman noted lightly as she continued to transcribe her observations.

Taylor opened her eyes and peered at the woman. "How did you know I was awake?"

The women laughed lightly, "Oh sweetie, I've been working this job for longer than I'd care to admit. You tend to learn to pick up these things. Besides, the sedative would have definitely worn off by now."

"Sedative?"

"Oh yes, you were quite difficult to get out of the car. You were swinging your arms and kicking your legs, yelling about this and that- they were eventually forced to sedate you. Honey, I've seen some difficult patients but I've never seen such fury. Sedating a patient addicted to opiates is really not something we often do."

"Glad I could spice things up around here," Taylor muttered, the ends of her mouth twitching upwards into a spiteful grin.

The woman looked away from Taylor and scanned the sheet attached to her clipboard. "Taylor, is it? Do you have a nickname… another name you would prefer to be called perhaps?"

"No, just Taylor."

"I see," she mumbled as she continued to scan the paper, "I'll be your nurse well you stay in the detoxification unit. My name is Kieran by the way. You can reach me by pressing that red button- right there on the table beside the bed. You won't be here long; your files say you did most of your detox at the hospital. You should be assigned a room by tomorrow or the day after. For now, just get some rest and reflect on why you're here. Your recovery begins now. Good luck."

Kieran turned on her heel and retreated back to the hallway, shutting the door behind her. Taylor heard the sound of clinking metal, presumably keys jumbling on a chain. A key was inserted into the door's lock and the conclusive sound of grinding gears told Taylor she was trapped in her room for an undisclosed amount of time. She wondered then, how long that would be. Kieran had told her that she would be transferred out of the detox unit in a day or two although Taylor had no way of knowing when the time would pass. There were no clocks, no windows- just Taylor, a bed, a table and a goddam red button.

* * *

**"Y**ou, you're my new roommate?" the frail Asian girl questioned Taylor as she unpacked her things in her new residence.

After a day, or perhaps two, of solitary confinement in her shitty room in the detoxification unit (which had a striking resemblance to that of a high-class jail cell), Taylor was assigned a room and a roommate for her stay at Pine River. She was guided to her new room and had the pleasure of meeting her seemingly neurotic roommate.

"Yeah, I guess I am." Taylor murmured resentfully under her breath, already annoyed with her apprehensive co-inhabitant.

The Asian girl scanned Taylor carefully, taking in her appearance while her face crudely divulged her calculating thoughts. She flipped through expressions like an unhinged slot machine; ranging from acute suspicion to sadness to kind admiration- all the while giving Taylor the creeps.

"I'm Melissa," the girl finally said. "Welcome to club PRI."

"PRI?" Taylor questioned expectantly.

"Pine River Institute; as in the rehab center we've both been committed to. What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't," Taylor said. Melissa stared at her, prodding her to continue. "It's Taylor," she sighed. "Taylor fucking Hagan. Nice to meet you, Melissa."

Melissa grinned, flashing a mouthful of impressively white, shiny teeth. "I have a good feeling about this. We're gonna be friends; I just know it."

'Fuck,' Taylor cursed inwardly to herself 'she's one of _those_ people; the fucking friendly ones. And here I was, praying for a crabby meth addict.'

"What are you here for?" Melissa inquired casually. Moments after, her eyes grew large and she looked panicked. "Oh! I'm sorry!" she hurriedly apologized. "I wasn't trying to be rude! You don't have to tell me if you don't want to! I just thought we should, you know, get to know each other since we're roommates and all. Really, I wasn't trying to be nosey at all. I was just wondering- that's it. You don't even have to answer that question; just forget I even said it!"

Melissa's fumbling awkwardness was too painful for Taylor to bear. What a sweet girl like her was doing in a place like this, Taylor didn't know.

"Heroin," Taylor offered. "That's why I'm here- mostly heroin. Although there were many other things of course, but that's the main thing I guess. It's what I OD'ed on a few days ago- it's why I'm here, now."

"Oh," Melissa said softly, taken by Taylor's forwardness. "It's Ketamine for me. Cutting too though, but I've mostly gotten over that."

"Cool," Taylor breathed in relief, satisfied she'd made Melissa descend from her state of verbal hysteria.

A bell- like the crusty old metal ones schools have used since the forties with their piercing, loud cry- echoed throughout the facility's network of hallways. Melissa's ears perked at the sound and she grinned broadly. It was dinner time, she told Taylor excitedly. Taylor couldn't understand why institutional food held such an allure for Melissa, although she guessed she was an adamant foodie despite her withered frame. Melissa led her through a series of hallways and they arrived at the noisy social center of PRI- the cafeteria.

* * *

**"I** don't understand," Taylor exclaimed suddenly, halting her activity of pushing her disgusting food around her plate. She turned her glance to Melissa, "You've barely touched your food yet you were so excited about dinner. What's the deal?"

Melissa surprised Taylor by wearing a guilty expression. "It's not really the food I was excited about," she admitted, "it's more of a person that I get excited about, actually."

"Who?" Taylor asked curiously. She scanned the room in front of her and only saw a assembly of sickly looking men and women- perhaps a few past the bar of decent looking.

"Him," Melissa said nodding her head in the direction over Taylor's shoulder.

Taylor turned around and was immediately drawn to a bored pair of piercing blue eyes. The handsome boy looked up, catching Taylor's gaze. Electric shocks raced up her spine, sending tremors to her hands. They stared at each other with mutual interest, both examining each other and sending messages through their stare, as if to say: _who the hell are you? _After what seemed like hours of their locked gaze, Taylor dropped her eyes and turned back to Melissa.

"He's cute," Taylor admitted timidly, still shaken by her intense interaction with him.

The exchange went unnoticed by Melissa. She began to chatter insistently and giggle every now and again, explaining her admiration for the handsome boy. She sounded like a love-stricken school girl, the kind Taylor had always scoffed at in the past. Taylor had never been one to get giddy over a boy. They were just boys- plenty of them, totally disposable in her mind. But something about this particular boy had Taylor awe-stricken and she was frustrated for being so taken by him.

"What's his name?" Taylor asked.

"Jackson- that's it, one name. No one knows if it's his first or his last. He's an enigma. He doesn't speak to anyone; he always looks like he's thinking something really deep- he's really just a mystery. Oh, and he's _totally _hot."

* * *

**A/N: Tada, my second chapter just as promised. Thanks for the review(s) and those who PMed me with praise, criticisms and comments. Not to sound like a broken record, but feedback is greatly appreciated. In later chapters Jackson and Taylor will begin to have interactions with each other and the emergence of the foreshadowed love triangle will appear much like the poorly handled one the show. I mean, am I the only one that thought the series ended the Jackson-Melissa-Taylor conflict on an unsettling and largely unresolved note? I enjoy both couples immensely so I would have enjoyed seeing at least one of the potential relationships develop. The writers could have at least written in a kiss somewhere. Anyway, you can tell me your thoughts on the series' (poor) ending in your comment. Hope you enjoyed the newest installment! Review away! **


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